All I Need
by Neoxie
Summary: Newfound feelings bring about pent-up ones. What will Ed do about his revolving world? Roy/Ed
1. All I Need

**All I Need**

It was just another day in Central Headquarters. Both boring and exquisite, for all those who actually give a shit whether the world is going off its hinges or not, thought Ed grumpily, having just woken up a few hours ago and practically sprinting to the main building, already very late.

Of course, he wouldn't even have to be here, if not for a certain Colonel Bastard having demanded him to report his latest exploits. Having to see that smug face and take snotty comments about his height in the morning was not Ed's idea of a good morning starter. But the truth is that nothing could really be any worse than their latest mission. Their leads to find the Philosopher's stone had proven to be faux; he had ended up being chased by a freaking horde of angry commoners and somehow damaged his automail in the process.

Well, when he thought about it that way, it didn't really seem that different from his other missions, but still, something had bothered him this time. Probably just the way all his latest adventures seemed to go down the drain. He had had enough of it and he was now, to put it simply, very pissed.

Thus, he reluctantly shuffled down the hall which would lead him to his office and burst in without knocking.

"Ah, Fullmetal," Mustang said, without even troubling to look up from his papers to know he was there. "Astounding manners as usual. Have a seat." He motioned dismissively to the couch as he finished with the report he had in hand, signing it and putting it aside.

Finally Mustang looked up from his table to see a very pissed looking Edward glaring at him from his seat on the couch. "What happened? You look dreadful." The hint of concern in his superior's voice confused the teen a little, but he just shrugged it off, assuming it was simply part of his "look at me; I'm so great I patronize everyone around me" act.

Ed then proceeded to impassively describe his latest adventure as he knew it was his duty to his commanding officer and the reason he was there anyway. As much as he wanted to avoid talking about it, as he generally did with everything that worried him, he had to admit that it actually felt quite good to have someone listen to you once in a while.

After Ed finished, there was an awkward moment when none of them truly knew what to say. This is stupid, Ed thought. He had reported missions tons of times before, but now he felt silly and pathetic telling it to a man who, no doubt, realized how silly and pathetic he was. Fuck, it is agonizing really, and Ed didn't know if he was referring to the mission, or the awkwardness, or the way Al seemed to grow more distant every day, or maybe the man in front of him staring at him with that I-can-see-right-through-you sort of look. He sat there, avoiding the older man's eyes, trying to fight the pain away, but not knowing how to do it and already feeling a distinctive prickling in his eyes and a churning sensation in his throat. That at least he knew how to fight back before it evolved into something as unmanly and unbecoming as tears.

Then, just as the silence had started to grow to become more oppressive, Mustang moved closer and embraced him. Ed stiffened a little, completely taken aback by the unexpected affection. Oh, what the hell; screw it, Ed thought and let himself be hugged tight, relaxing into the strong arms around him. Feeling the strong surge of despair closing in on him, Ed buried his face in the older man's shirt, gripping it firmly in the back. In response, Mustang rubbed his hands comfortingly over the younger man's back. Then he tipped Ed's face up and kissed him softly on his cheek and near his eye. Ed snuggled closer, closing the gap between them, drunk in the warmth he felt from the man's touch. It felt so good and natural to be held this close, as if that was all he had ever needed.


	2. Confusion

They sat like that for some time until the sound of voices could be heard from the hallway. The noise awakened Ed from his dreamlike state, sending him back to the cold, harsh reality. He was hugging Mustang – him – of all people. He sprang to his feet as if he had been shocked. He looked at Mustang and tried to say something, but he couldn't get a word in edgeways. He had only one option left: strategic retreat. He slipped out of the office, sending the door flying back with a loud crash.

When he was out of the main building, he slowed his pace to a brisk walk, which seemed to allow the blood to rush back to his head. What happened? What the fuck happened in there? As much as Edward tried though, it was remarkably difficult to put his thoughts together. He was so angry for having such a moment of weakness and, moreover, for, as much as it pissed him off to admit it, having vaguely liked it, vaguely, relatively. The not-so-awkward proximity to his superior officer… No, it can't be, not…. Fuck, what is wrong with me? He furrowed his brows, his left hemisphere of the brain working in a fury to try to figure out his newfound emotions; something some other part of him was apparently enjoying quite earnestly. And as he skidded across an alley and then another, a word lingered on his head. Care. Edward was fifteen. He was strong, confident, independent, his actions were logical and coherent. And yet, how many years had it been since he had felt the warmth of another human being?

Of course, Al had always been near him, his ever faithful companion, not so much anymore at any rate, but it was different. How could he ever bring himself to wish for company and warmth when his brother was trapped in a cold metal armor forever? Guilt. It was his fault he had become like that in the first place. He felt a sharp stab of pain. No wonder Al seemed so apart – he must long before have realized what he now did. How comforting it was to be hugged, to be held close, to have human feelings, sensations, to feel needs, and cravings, and comfort, and how he could have none of it. Ever. How could he not hate him? He who had entombed him in an immaterial existence.

Exhausted by his thoughts, he sat on a bench in the park. The light gleamed in the surface of the leaves and a few birds chirped happily in the trees. The obvious indifference of the world to his suffering gave him a soft feeling of utter solitude. And here he was, a part of him pitifully clinging hard to the memory of his touch, stubbornly not wanting to let go of the dire need he had felt in his presence, the need he felt now in his absence. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He groaned loudly, a new wave of rage overtaking him and he punched his own forehead, the way you would hit a vending machine when it gets stuck and doesn't give you what you want. Likewise, Edward Elric punched his head in the childish expectation that something would click into place and his mind would spout some sort of magical answer.

Nothing happened though, except for a serious headache and a group of passers-by avoiding him like the plague, obviously thinking he must be an unstable, raving maniac. He left the park before he attracted more undesirable attention. And it was not like he could just ignore the (seductively) dangerous implications of what had happened between him and the Colonel. He was confused. Should he pass it off as being just an unexpected sign of friendship? Not that he would have ever imagined he and the bastard would be friends, but they did go through a lot together. The gearwheels in his brain creaked and rolled viciously slow.

Once he had stepped in his apartment, he promptly slumped himself carelessly onto the sofa. Ed draped his arms over his face and made one last attempt to cram some sense into his now upside-down world.

As he let his mind drift into oblivion, he felt some tiny part of him in the back of his mind cry out indignantly: Is it so wrong to want to be loved?


	3. Restless

"Al!" Edward sat up abruptly. A sheen of sweat clung to his face and body and he was panting heavily. Loafs of air were coming out of his lungs and were sucked back in with a dry, rasping sound. He was shaking beyond control. His thoughts swirled in his head in a dizzying revelry and it took him a while to breath normally again and realize that the vivid words and images in his head were nothing but a dream.

He shuffled unsteadily to the bathroom sink and washed his clammy face. He didn't trouble to turn the lights on and in the darkness, he glared at his pale, shadowed reflection. The memories from the dream were now foggy and as they disappeared, they left behind a distinct feeling of sickness, which always accompanied bad dreams. He frowned at his mirrored image. He could recall his brother's brutal eyes accusing him silently and then, his once sweet voice filled with disgust as it slowly recited everything he had ever done to hurt him, all his faults, his sins. And it was a long list. He could still recall his icy voice declaring ferociously:

"You, you robbed me of everything I could ever have: my peace, my happiness, my humanity. You might as well have let me die." His voice grew in harshness and loathing. "You killed me, brother."

The image then morphed to that of his mother, smiling at him and then to the thing he had created that night. Its smile was evil and distorted and it whispered in a voice that was not human: "You killed me, Ed." The thing then started to laugh, a horrid, evil laugh, and tried to pull him down to the endless darkness.

"NO!" he screamed and heaved into the sink. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stumbled back until he felt his back clash against the hard bathroom door. Leaning against it, he let his back slide till he fell on the cold tiles. He stayed like that for a long time, dejected, empty, his mind slowly processing the strange dream. He didn't even try to repress the thoughts. When he had calmed down, he started to doze off again.

* * *

><p>Darkness. A shattered glass in the middle of the ground. He bent over to inspect it. There was a picture in it. A family. He didn't understand, but he felt like he had seen them before. It felt strangely familiar. The man's face in the picture was smudged and he couldn't see his expression, but the woman seemed so happy that it sent him tingles of joy. The other's faces had an equal shade to them.<p>

Had he ever been this happy?

Who was he?

Then the scenery changed and he was in the middle of a war, and the people were killing each other. There were sounds of bodies clashing with the floor; there were gunshots and crying. He shuddered as some people were blown off right in front of him. He was scared; he stepped back and trudged in the opposite direction. Then he stopped when he saw a man that seemed vaguely familiar. He had black hair and dirt-smeared clothes and black eyes that were so tired, so hollow. He cringed. He knew the look in those eyes. He had seen it before, yet he couldn't remember when. It was heart-breaking to see him like that. He wanted to do something about it. He wanted to turn to him and say, "Don't worry. You're not alone. I have felt that way before." As if that would make any difference. He turned to the man and was about to speak to him, but then he realized he wouldn't listen. This was not his memory. He hadn't been here.

The scenery changed again and he felt himself falling. He gasped and then he realized he was back on his feet. He was pacing a dark corridor. He couldn't see anything ahead of him, but he knew he was walking in circles. He could feel the pulse of the Earth beneath him, undying, unchanging. But what did that mean anyway? As he walked the endless corridor, he started to feel tired and uneasy. Was there no end to it? He needed to get out of there; he needed to break the cycle. But how?

Then he was in a familiar building. He was receiving a silver watch. He heard a voice tell him: "It's your choice, Edward Elric." And then Al was in front of him, and his piercing green eyes were looking directly at his. He felt guilt. "Brother." He inwardly flinched; waiting for the harsh words he knew were coming.

"You look like a wreck."

"What?" He cracked one eye open to see a huge metal armor looming over him. A faceless expression; a voice tinged with concern. His mind was still hazy and it was certainly trying to trick him. "What you said was true. I know it. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to be happy while you're not. But I can fix it. Just give me time," Ed rambled, eyes half lidded, nodding slightly.

"Brother…what are you talking about? I just got here from Risembool, and you seemed to be having a nightmare so I woke you up."

Was this some sort of joke? It wasn't funny. The Al in front of him stretched a metal hand to help him up. Confused, he sprang to his feet and shakily backed into the hallway. He lunged to the door of his apartment and continued to run aimlessly until he tripped on something hard and fell face first on the soft, wet grass. His head throbbing painfully, Ed rolled until he was looking at the parade of immaculate white clouds on the blue morning sky. Then, something clicked in his mind and the cogwheels returned to their normal state of motion. It was morning. The dull ache on his head told him he wasn't dreaming. It was his brother he had seen. The real flesh…no, metal Al. He must have returned from Risembool that morning by train, entered their apartment and found him sleeping on the floor. Great shit. He had mistaken him for one of his dreams. Why had he come anyway? He wasn't ready to talk to him. So, why now?

* * *

><p>Already perfectly conscious and lucid, Edward got to his feet and found his way back to his apartment. When he got there, he noticed Al had already left. A large suitcase was standing in the lobby instead and over it was a small note that said, "I'm at the library". Edward felt his stomach grumble. He glanced at the nearest clock. It was nine a.m. It was time for breakfast. As he helped himself to whatever food he could find in the kitchen, he remembered he had to collect some papers in headquarters, something he had forgotten to do the last time he'd been there. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to delay it any longer as he needed them for his next mission. Besides, it would distract him from his present situation.<p>

Then a thought struck him. He would be there. Immediately, he started to fret. Ignoring the fluttering anticipation he felt, he told himself that seeing him would probably make him even more confused, and he wanted to avoid that. But he really needed those papers; maybe there was a way he could get them without being spotted by the man?

Sighing, Ed went to take a shower and dress himself in fresh clothes. His current ones were fairly sweaty due to the bad dreams he had had that morning. When he was finished, he quickly made his way to the military headquarters, while conjuring up plans on how to avoid facing the Colonel directly. Once he was inside though, everything seemed to be going just fine. The coast was clear and the first person he spotted was Fury, who was at his desk, busy with some papers. No one else was in the room. Perfect.

He had just finished retrieving the information he was looking for, folded the necessary papers and stuffed them into his coat when suddenly, an all too familiar voice rang from behind him: "Fullmetal!"

His eyes widened in alarm.


	4. Collision

"Fullmetal!"

Ed unwillingly glanced back to see a dark-haired man stride quickly in his direction. His eyes widened in alarm and the memories of his last encounter with the man flooded to his mind. Panicking, he wheeled around and sought an escape, but then he felt a firm hand grasp his arm, blocking his escapade.

"I need to talk to you for a second," he said. From the corner of his eye, Ed saw Fuery silently making his retreat. Seriously, the man might be clumsy but he had a talent for perceiving and successfully avoiding perilous situations. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about Ed.

Finally alone in the room, he turned back to see Mustang's eyes fixed on him, an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to be considering what to say to him and Ed waited, feeling really uncomfortable with the silence. He tried to pry his arm away, but it was seriously being clutched tightly and Ed didn't want to resort to violence. Not at the moment, anyway.

"You have to stop this, Ed," he said, his tone was low and hushed and if Ed didn't know better, he might have said it sounded like he was concerned, "Stop trying to blame yourself for everything that happens around you. It's naïve to think everything depends on your actions."

Ed puffed out and scowled at Mustang in fury. He wasn't _trying_ to blame himself for anything. It simply _was_ his fault that Al stood the way he was, it was his fault that things weren't going anywhere, and it definitely was his responsibility to glue things back together and return them to the way they were before. Exactly what part of this was unrealistic?

"I'm not trying anything! And what does it matter to you anyway? I can work things out by myself!"

Mustang's face darkened a little. He could see his forehead crinkle in thought.

"It does matter to me. You're my subordinate officer. I have the responsibility to look after you and ensure you don't do anything too stupid."

Oh great. There we go with the patronizing crap. And this time it was accompanied by a good deal of sympathetic bullshit. Like hell he would fall for that!

"What a loud of crap!" he growled, "Besides, I don't need your pity. I can fend for myself pretty well. I always have. It's not like I ever had an option." The last was said in a lower voice and he hoped Mustang hadn't really heard him.

Then, unexpectedly, the other man sighed and his face smoothened to a softer and a bit weary expression. An image of a man standing near a pile of bodies and rubble came to his mind. He vaguely noted it had something to do with the strange dreams he'd been having. Then, suddenly, Ed had the feeling that this man could understand him. Like an alchemical equation waiting for someone to decipher it by giving a meaning to the strange symbols and numbers. It was a strange feeling and he tried to shake it away.

"Look, I know you've been avoiding me. About the other day…I'm sorry if I startled you," he kept his face impassive, but his voice betrayed the apprehension.

"No, I…" _What? I should be the one to apologize for walking away suddenly? I'm really glad you were there for me and wish you would do it again since I really need it? I want you so much it's painful and humiliating and tearing me apart with guilt? _"I didn't mind." He flinched at the understatement.

"Yes, well," He seemed unconvinced, but geared back to his original topic. "I don't think you should walk around with the burden of the whole world on your shoulders. It's not fair for you and it's not fair for other people like your brother who care for you and expect you to come out alive."

At the mention of his brother, Ed stiffened. "It's normal for there to be periods in research when there is no improvement. But you are talented, Ed. We all believe you will succeed. But for now, you should just take things easy."

He said that in a solemn tone, in a way that reminded him of that fated day when he had first met Roy Mustang after his failed human transmutation. That time, his harsh words had brought some sort of comfort to his shattered world. They had brought him a new hope. Not a chance to wash away his sins but at least a way to restore his brother's body and hence to amend his mistakes even if by just a little. It was hard not to trust the man when he spoke in that genuine and resolute manner.

"I wanted to tell you the other day that you should talk with your brother. You two seem to have some issues to solve."

Ed bit his lower lip in frustration. He knew it was unavoidable but it still made him so frightened. He was so afraid Al would hate him.

But by the looks of it, Mustang had noticed his concern. Roy's free hand stroked Ed's cheek softly and all of a sudden, he seemed a lot closer. Ed felt himself react to Roy's touch and lean closer. When he realized his own eagerness to be near him, he gasped and sensing the grip on his arm loosen, yanked it away and made his escape towards the door for the second time that week, ignoring the call that came from the voice he left behind.

* * *

><p>Ed opened the glass doors of the National Library to be embraced by the sight of endless shelves bearing hefty tomes. The smell of parchment and the silence that hung in the air felt familiar and reassuring. At the corner of the large room, he saw a table covered in stacks of books. A huge, frightening metal armor stood out from amongst them, clashing curiously with the environment.<p>

Al seemed completely absorbed in his research and only looked up when Edward approached him. He wasn't exactly a man of words so he just sat quietly in the chair opposite to that of his brother. Al's eyes were fixed on his, his metal body hindering all possible hint of expression, and Ed found himself wishing for the millionth time that he could read his brother's thoughts.

"Brother, we need to talk," Al closed the book he had been reading. His tone was concerned, but patient and it irked Ed somewhat. "Can we go outside?"

He nodded and they headed to a place where they could talk freely. In the dim evening light of the green patch of grass that faced the library from South, they walked in an awkward silence and Ed knew his brother was waiting for him to say something, probably to evaluate his mental sanity, but he couldn't for Flamel's sake think of anything. He tried harder.

"So, how's Winry?" He eventually poured out. "Oh, she's fine. Worried about you like we all are." _Damn. I should have predicted that. _

"What do you mean, Al? I'm fine." He smiled to stress it out. "Just a little tired of useless missions."

"So tired that you have to throw yourself in the middle of gun fire for the sake of examining a stone carving?"

Shit. He was hoping he wouldn't remember that. "It was important research material."

"It could have waited."

"It could have been damaged by the gun shots." He countered.

"What about the mission before that when you purposefully sneaked alone into the lair of the Homunculi while I was distracted questioning civilians?"

"I didn't want to attract attention."

"Right," he said, intentionally prolonging the "i".

"What are you trying to say?" He spat out angrily. Everything he had done, _everything_, was just for the sake of gathering information on the Stone. So what if there was a risk involved? He didn't care, but that didn't mean he was suicidal. He was just caring for his brother.

"Why do you keep putting yourself in dangerous situations? It seems like…like you're trying to hurt yourself on purpose or something! Of course we're worried about you!"

"What? I'm not – Look, you do want to get your body back, don't you? That's what I'm trying to do! Yeah, of course it's risky sometimes, but I don't care! I'll get your body back for sure even if I die trying!"

"Stupid Brother!" Al screamed.

He heard the clank of metal against flesh, before he felt the solid fist collide with his chest, sending him flying backwards with the force of the impact.

He sat up and rubbed his cheek with his metal hand. That freaking hurt!

"Why do you always have to try to do everything by yourself?" Al's voice was boiling with anger. "Why do you keep hurting yourself for my sake? Do you even realize how that makes me feel? I'm sick of it! I want to have my body back, I want to have a human life again, but it's not worth it if you throw away yours for it!"

"I…" Ed gasped, completely taken aback by his brother's sudden outburst. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way…"

"Oh yeah?" he bawled. "Then I suggest you change your stupid behavior and start being more respectful towards yourself and the people who care about you!" He voice was shrill and demanding. "Stop throwing yourself into dangerous situations and stop hating yourself for every goddamn think that happens on Earth."

And then he added in a plea "I'm your brother. If you're going to carry the world in your shoulders then let me carry it too."

Ed looked up to his younger brother as if he had never truly seen him before. There was a long pause in which they looked at each other in silence, but it no longer felt awkward or strange. On the contrary, Ed felt incredibly relieved. The barrier that stood impenetrable between them had been broken. Al had given him a piece of his mind and now there were no more distances to cross. It felt familiar and comforting. They were Ed and Al, like they used to be. Fighting, hiding….it was all meaningless. Before he realized it, his lips were curling into a broad smile. "What?" Judging by Al's voice, he could have been pouting.

"Nothing, it's just…I'm glad it's all over."

"Yeah," He sighed. "But you have to promise me, Brother, that you will do what I say from now on." Ed nodded. "And you will consult me before doing anything stupid." He wasn't too sure about that, but he nodded again. "And you will start by going to Colonel Mustang and asking him out." He nodded. Wait, what?

"What the… wait, how do you? I don't…" He spluttered incoherently.

"It's pretty obvious, brother." Al said indulgingly. "Just go talk with him; he doesn't deserve you to ignore him like that. And have some fun please, or I'll come and hang you by the feet in the ceiling and call Winry to beat you with a wrench."

That didn't sound very nice. Would Al really be able to do that? Yeah, well, he probably would. It wasn't very smart to underestimate younger brothers. And he had a point. He had been ignoring Mustang for a few days now and it was starting to get on his nerves.

They stood there, the fresh spring air wafting over their faces and Ed silently decided he needed to do something about it. Yes, he definitely had to do _something_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The previous chapters are now edited and corrected. Thank you, Aishiteru Sabaku no Gaara for being kind enough to offer your beta services!

Sorry for the long wait! Am I the only person who feels that Ed has serious guilt issues?


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